


if secrets were like seeds

by sirenic (noctiphany)



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Dirty Talk, Implied Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Wu Yi Fan | Kris/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sort Of, Wall Sex, mentions of felching?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:18:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiphany/pseuds/sirenic
Summary: Yixing is -- something new.





	if secrets were like seeds

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @ forest nymph Hozier for the title. (no plan)

Yixing is -- something new. Something of a puzzle. Junmyeon is, so far, very much enjoying figuring him out, piece by piece.

“I saw you,” Yixing whispers next to Junmyeon’s ear, his body pressed firmly behind Junmyeon’s as he presses him against the wall. “Watching us.”

Junmyeon knew Yixing would’ve noticed, he wasn’t exactly being subtle about it, but he hadn’t quite expected this reaction. Not that it’s unwelcome, exactly. If he wanted to push Yixing off of him, he could. Yixing might be able to crush a man with his thighs, but Junmyeon’s been in the gym constantly working on his upper body strength. He could have him on his ass right now if he so chose. He does not.

“Watching _him_ ,” Yixing says, lower this time, and Junmyeon’s teeth dig into his bottom lip a little.

“You weren’t?” Junmyeon asks, arching his body to press back against Yixing’s, smirking when he feels the hard line of Yixing cock through the loose cotton pants he likes to practice in. “Or were you too busy putting your hands all over him?”

Yixing grips Junmyeon’s hips and returns the favor, grinding his cock against Junmyeon’s ass. “We were practicing,” he says, measured, rolling his hips again, mimicking one of the moves he’d been helping Kris out with. “You know that.”

“I know,” Junmyeon says, his own cock throbbing where it’s trapped between his pants and the wall, arm getting a bit sore where Yixing has it bent behind him, pressed against his own shoulder blades, “that you look at him like you’re wondering how long it would take to rid him of his gag reflex.”

Yixing laughs, a light, breathy sound, then lets go of Junmyeon’s arm, letting it drop to his side, and slipping his hand up around Junmyeon’s throat.

“Is this what you want?” He asks next to Junmyeon’s ear. “For me to take you right here? Right here with your door unlocked where anyone can walk in and see you like this, taking my cock? Begging for it?”

Junmyeon flushes all over, Yixing’s words scorching. This is all new to him. He’s not used to this, being the one against the wall, the one not in control. He’s never begged anyone for anything in his life, but right now he’d get on his knees and clasp his hands together if it meant Yixing would fuck him until he forgot his name. It might have something to do with the idea Yixing put in his head of someone, maybe everyone, walking in and finding him like that, but the thought causes such a stir of emotions in Junmyeon’s gut that he doesn’t dwell on it long.

“Lock the door,” he says impatiently, then grinds back against Yixing. “Then get to the rest of it.”

“Hmmm,” Yixing hums, licking a stripe up the side of Junmyeon’s throat. “But it’s all the way across the room and you’re right here, teasing me with this.”

He grabs a handful each of Junmyeon’s ass and Junmyeon tries desperately to swallow down a moan, but loses the battle. “Yixing --”

“Junmyeon,” Yixing teases back, voice low and hot against the back of Junmyeon’s neck as he slips his hand down the back of Junmyeon’s pants. “I could feel your eyes on us, you know. I didn’t even have to look over to see. I could feel how hungry you were for this. It made me so hard.”

“Fuck,” Junmyeon murmurs, thinking about the moves Yixing had been trying to help Kris out with. His body just wasn’t moving as fluidly as it needed to and at times it was just easier for Yixing to stand behind him and guide his hips and thighs into it, let Kris feel the way his own body moved and try to mimic it. God, if Yixing had been hard -- had Kris felt it, then? Had he purposely rolled his hips back against Yixing just to feel him, the way Junmyeon is now? Is that what had him so flushed and red when they finished up? “ _God, Yixing, please._ ”

And like that, one more piece of the puzzle slides into place. It’s the begging that always gets to Yixing, the raw desperation dripping from Junmyeon’s tone. He likes to know how much he’s wanted, needs it, even. As soon as Junmyeon’s pleas fall from his lips, Yixing reaches for the lubricant next to the bed and strips Junmyeon of his pants and briefs and wastes no time slicking his fingers up and pushing two of them inside of him, drawing a deep, dirty moan from Junmyeon’s mouth followed by a string of curses.

“I never knew you were so filthy, Junmyeon,” Yixing says as he stretches Junmyeon open, twisting and pumping his fingers inside of him, slowing for a moment as he leans in to drag his teeth over Junmyeon’s ear and murmur, “You always surprise me.”

Junmyeon wants to tell him the same. That there’s so much he never expected, but most of all, that Yixing would’ve ever wanted him. The fact that he approached him first, that he’s still here -- it remains a mystery to Junmyeon. But then, Junmyeon’s always had a penchant for things he doesn’t quite understand. He enjoys things you have to spend a bit of time with before they start to make sense. That’s what Yixing’s always been to him. An enigma. A puzzle. But this, the two of them together? That’s a mystery he’s not sure he’ll ever completely solve. To be honest, he isn’t sure he even wants to. Part of the fun, of course, is being caught unaware.

“Tell me,” Yixing says, crooking his fingers in a way that causes a sharp gasp to burst from Junmyeon’s mouth and his vision to white out momentarily. “What were you thinking about when you were watching us?”

Junmyeon presses his forehead into the wall, mouth open and slack as Yixing strokes at his prostate with his long, slender fingers. He’s aware that Yixing’s asked him a question, but couldn’t tell you for all the money in the world what he asked. All he can do is clench around Yixing’s fingers and press back against them, wanting them deeper, wanting more. He’s only aware that he’s moaning when Yixing curses in Mandarin under his breath and begins to withdraw his fingers. Junmyeon’s too mad with want to translate correctly, but he thinks he catches _slut_ and _gorgeous_ in there somewhere, though he could be wrong.

Yixing doesn’t ask him if he’s ready and for that, Junmyeon is grateful. He doesn’t think he could find the words right now if he tried. This is what Yixing does to him sometimes. Makes him non-verbal. Makes him stupid with how much he needs. When Yixing grips his hips and slams into him, Junmyeon’s hands slam against the wall above his head and he moans, filthy and shameless. But to be fair, he isn’t sure which one of them is louder.

Yixing, whenever he’s inside of him, becomes a different animal altogether. He gets impatient, _greedy._ Even though he’s in complete control, it’s no longer about that. It’s like he forgets, every time, how good it can feel, and every time he has to chase the feeling as hard and as fast as he can. His mouth runs away from him in the same way, murmuring even more filth, telling Junmyeon how good he feels, how tight and hot, how he feels like he was made for his cock, made just for him. It makes Junmyeon hot all over, makes his cock leak all over the place. It makes him sink his teeth into his forearm to keep himself from saying equally stupid things.

Tonight, however, Yixing isn’t allowing it.

“No,” he says, pushing his fingers into Junmyeon’s hair and yanking his head back. “Tell me what you were thinking, Junmyeon-ah. Tell me those filthy thoughts you were having about our Yifan.”

 _Yifan._ Junmyeon shudders. Only the Chinese members call him that. He’s not sure why, but Kris is shy about a lot of things, protective almost. There are certain things he doesn’t talk about with everyone and that’s one of them. Junmyeon understands, in this world sometimes you have to keep certain things held close to your chest. But it feels taboo somehow, to hear it spoken like this, with Yixing buried inside of him, fingers twisted around his hair. It feels like being let in on a secret that only few know, like being trusted with something sacred and --

Yixing yanks his hair again. “ _Tell_ me.”

“Fuck,” Junmyeon gasps, biting his cheek to swallow down the moan from the pain. “You -- he looked so good pressed against you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you bending him over, fucking him in front of the mirrors.”

More curses Junmyeon is too cock-stupid to translate.

“Mm,” Yixing says calmly, as if Junmyeon hadn’t just felt his cock twitch inside of him, as if he wasn’t leaving finger length bruises on his hipbones. “You think he would let me?”

“I think he would beg,” Junmyeon groans and it mixes with a rumbling one from Yixing’s chest. “I think he would take it until he fucking cried. I think he would love it.”

Yixing groans again and sinks his teeth into the meat of Junmyeon’s shoulder, reaching for his arms and stretching them out over his head, pressing his hands against the wall beneath his own. Junmyeon can feel his heavy, punctuated breaths next to his cheeks each time Yixing slams into him. Yixing’s body is covering his so fully that Junmyeon is completely caged in. All he can do is take it, Yixing’s breath on his skin, Yixing’s cock pounding his prostate with each hard, deep thrust. It won’t be long for either of them now.

“I want us both to take him,” Yixing rasps out, breaths coming out harsh as his thrusts become more and more erratic. “I want him so full of cock he can’t think straight. I want -- _ah, fuck_ \-- I want to --”

The rest of his sentence dissolves into Mandarin. Junmyeon’s mind tries to grasp at the words, frantic, but he’s too overwhelmed; they won’t stick. “Yixing, Korean,” he gasps. “I don’t --”

But it’s too late. Yixing is already coming, fingers tight around Junmyeon’s hips as he slams inside of him one last time and spills, squeezing Junmyeon’s fingers where their hands are still clasped against the wall, gasping and panting, rolling his hips as the orgasm rocks through him. Yixing never makes much noise when he comes and Junmyeon makes a mental note to change that soon.

“Sorry,” Yixing murmurs against his neck, kissing the angry bite mark there before slowly sliding out of Junmyeon. Junmyeon whimpers at the loss, he likes to come with Yixing inside of him, but Yixing immediately replaces his cock with his fingers. Three of them.

“Oh _god --”_

“I was saying,” Yixing says as he pushes his fingers into Junmyeon and Junmyeon’s face flushes redder than it already was, feeling the come inside of him drip out around Yixing’s fingers, down the inside of his thighs. “That I think Yifan would very much like if we took turns with him.”

“Oh my god,” Junmyeon murmurs, probably not even loud enough for Yixing to hear. He’s too busy picturing it. Yif -- Kris, face down on Junmyeon’s bed, ass up, hole fucked open and dripping. He thinks about how beautifully he’d take it, how he’d want to touch himself so bad, but they wouldn’t let him. They’d just take and take. Yixing would come inside of him, then Junmyeon would push right inside his slick, loose hole, Yixing’s come the only lubricant he’d need. He thinks about how pretty Kris would look, crying for it, and wraps his hand around his cock.

“I was saying,” Yixing continues, fucking Junmyeon with his fingers now, hitting that good, sweet spot almost every time. “How hot it would be to watch you lick my come out of him.”

“Yixing _fuck -”_ Junmyeon bucks into his fist and comes without any warning, clenching around Yixing’s fingers and banging his forehead on the wall in front of him while he strips his cock through it until he’s spent. And then, he nearly collapses. Yixing catches him before he falls, chuckling when he scoops Junmyeon up in his arms effortlessly and carries him over to the bed. Junmyeon makes a note to start lifting more.

He waits for the fall out, but it doesn’t come. It never does. Junmyeon realizes he’s always waiting for that, for the time he becomes too much, for the time Yixing decides he’s done with...whatever they’re doing. Maybe, more than all of that, he worries that one day he’ll get bored of solving the puzzle that is Zhang Yixing. It’s happened before. He’s not proud of it, but it takes a lot to hold his attention.

“You know,” Yixing says after they’ve cleaned up and he flops down on the bed next to Junmyeon with his laptop. “You really need to work on your Mandarin.”

Junmyeon blinks at him twice, then socks him in the arm. Yixing grins, but his gaze never leaves his computer screen. When Junmyeon relaxes again, his eyes travel across the room and land on the door.

“Oh my god, the door,” he panics. “Yixing, the _door._ You -- I can’t believe you didn’t lock --”

Yixing dissolves into a fit of giggles. “Of course I locked the door,” he says. “I’m not crazy.”

Christ, Junmyeon is going to _kill_ him.

“I can’t believe you think I would let --”

In the middle of Yixing’s sentence, Chanyeol barges in. “Have you guys seen Jongin’s earbuds?”

“He lost them again?” Yixing asks without looking up.

“Again,” Chanyeol sighs.

Junmyeon stares at the door after Chanyeol leaves and shuts it behind him.

“Ah,” Yixing says, back to working on his laptop already. “Guess I forgot to lock the door.”

Junmyeon stares at him for a moment, then snorts and gets off the bed to go help Jongin find yet another pair of lost headphones, or more likely, go buy him another pair.

“And I was worried about being bored,” he mutters, grinning as he walks out the door.


End file.
